


우리 애들아, 멁이랑 용

by linnhe



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Belts, Bruises, Crying, Daddy Kink, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Diapers, Dumbification, Established Relationship, Humiliation, Incest Kink, M/M, Multi, Pacifiers, Polyamory, Sexual Little Space, Spanking, Watersports, everyone in this story is a consenting adult, probably the filthiest soft filth I've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:41:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24390739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linnhe/pseuds/linnhe
Summary: Mark has had a hard day. Taeyong is endlessly bratty and Johnny punishes him for it.
Relationships: Lee Taeyong/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Mark Lee/Lee Taeyong, Mark Lee/Lee Taeyong/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Mark Lee/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 6
Kudos: 194





	우리 애들아, 멁이랑 용

**Author's Note:**

  * For [naom2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/naom2/gifts).



Johnny has Taeyong splayed out in front of him, naked, kneading his hands into the flesh of Taeyong's thighs. Taeyong takes in shuddering breaths as he's handled, the tip of his sensitive dick unpleasantly rubbing against the blanket underneath him.

Johnny pushes his hands upwards, digging his fingers into Taeyong's ass cheeks. There's bruises mottling Taeyong's skin, varying in colour depending on their age. Johnny has been bruising him with abandon for weeks now, enjoying the freedom self-isolation has brought them. They don't need to be strategic anymore, no longer need to make sure Taeyong's work shirts will cover all the marks. 

This newfound freedom has fuelled Johnny's creativity, and sadism. Taeyong has never felt more taken care of.

Some days, he doesn't break out of subspace at all. His job is simple enough, and he's been doing it long enough, that he can perform it while he's little. He doesn't deliver to his usual standard on those days, constantly distracted by his bottle and his pacifier and the desire to take a fat nap, but his boss has been day drinking lately and so Taeyong's subpar performance has been going largely unnoticed. Maybe the whole world had decided to cut one another some extra slack.

"Daddy, hurts," he whines quietly, cheek pressing into the pillow.

"Hm?" Johnny asks, landing another harsh slap on Taeyong's ass. Taeyong cries out breathlessly, trying to curl away from Johnny instinctively. Johnny places a hand in between his shoulder blades in response, pinning him in place. "Thought my baby boy understood why he needs punishment?"

"Hurts," Taeyong repeats, sniffling.

Johnny hits him again, palm landing on heated skin. He's been working on this flush for a while now, slowly guiding Taeyong's skin towards its current state. Sometimes he goes hard out the gate, when he wants to inflict only pain, his hand striking skin that's cold and unwilling. Those sessions never last long, because Taeyong can't take it.

But when Johnny primes him and works his way up slowly, it's like the more Taeyong is hit, the more he can handle. Every new impact has him writhing for the next one, even though he cries and begs Johnny to stop.

Johnny knows stopping is the last thing his boyfriend wants, knows he's giving Taeyong spine-tingly pleasure, providing him with the good kind of hurt that will leave him fuzzy and empty-headed.

"I-I'll be good," Taeyong sobs.

"Convince me," Johnny grunts, voice straining as he connects his hand with Taeyong's ass cheek again.

" _Ah!_ " Taeyong cries out, arching his back in an eager display for more. He's babbling, mind hazy. "I'll be good, I, I'll–"

"Yeah?" Johnny asks, rubbing the spot he just struck.

"You started without me," a sulky voice says from the doorway. 

It's Mark, their boyfriend, back from his evening shift at the convenience store. Sometimes he worked the night shift, and Taeyong would wake up at the crack of dawn to walk down the road and go surprise him, bringing him the scarf he always forgot at home and buying him a shitty iced coffee, to help him stay awake until his classes started.

Even in his work uniform and old glasses, he looks handsome. Taeyong rubs the tears from his eyes and makes grabby hands towards him, sniffling pitifully. There was something especially soothing about having Mark by his side, when he'd been slipping under all day.

"Go wash your hands and then come here, baby," Johnny says invitingly. Taeyong nods wholeheartedly at the invite.

It takes Mark no time at all to rid himself of his outside clothes, slipping into an oversized t-shirt with a colourful cartoon design on the front of it. He goes to wash his hands, downing a big glass of water while he's at it. Then he lies down next to Taeyong on the soft fleece blanket that's been spread out in their living room, tucking a chilly knee in between Taeyong's heated thighs and fitting his jaw in the crook of his neck.

"Yong," he mutters petulantly, and already, he sounds so much younger than when he first walked through the door. "Missed you."

"Minhyungie," Taeyong answers through his tears, clinging to Mark. He kisses his temple and nuzzles him.

Johnny's touches the both of them with steady hands, rubbing circles into their thighs. He gives Taeyong's thigh a little pinch. "I think you've been punished enough. What do you think?"

Taeyong sniffles again, but nods. He doesn't feel bad anymore, the way he did when Johnny first started hitting him. 

"Alright." Johnny pats his hip. "Taeyong-ah, look after your baby brother while I go fix dinner. You can watch a movie, but nothing scary, okay?"

Taeyong nods again, now laying a protective hand over the back of Mark's head. Mark closes his eyes and sticks his thumb into his mouth, the gentle suckling noises soothing both of them as they sink deeper into little space together, foreheads pressed together. Sounds of Johnny's meal prep start up from the kitchen, and Taeyong blinks at the rhythmic sounds of vegetables being chopped.

"Minhyungie," he whispers, and Mark opens his eyes to look at him, going a little cross-eyed in his effort to bring him into focus. He always has round eyes, but somehow, they seem even bigger and more innocent when he's gone into subspace, when he's looking at Taeyong like he'd follow him anywhere. "Wanna watch a movie? Daddy said we could."

Mark shakes his head, never pulling his thumb from his mouth. He goes almost completely non-verbal some sessions, and it seemed tonight would be one of those nights.

"Wanna colour?"

Mark nods eagerly at that suggestion. He sits back on his butt while Taeyong retrieves their toy chest from besides the couch, still sucking his thumb.

Paper and thick, colourful pencils get spread out across the linoleum flooring. Mark makes a whiny sound when he can't hold down his paper and colour and suck his thumb at the same time, but is quickly soothed by the appearance of Taeyong's hand, slipping a pastel yellow pacifier past his lips.

They colour like that for a while, laying on their stomachs on the heated floor, their legs swinging back and forth lazily. Mark shows Taeyong his drawings for his approval, which Taeyong gives readily every time.

"So cool," he says with awe in his voice, studying the latest one Mark drew, an Iron Man flying across the sky. It's too good a drawing for the age they're feeling today, Mark's art training shining through, but neither comment on that. But even when Mark gives him pages filled with scribbles, mindless expressions of the day's emotions, he genuinely thinks it's cool. He loves everything Mark draws, simply because Mark drew it.

And Mark knows Taeyong will compliment him no matter what, but beams over the praise nonetheless.

"We should ask daddy if we can put it up on the fridge," Taeyong suggests, which has Mark humming in enthusiastic agreement. The only thing he liked more than praise from Taeyong was praise from Johnny, their dominant.

They're holding hands coming into the kitchen, and Johnny smiles at the sight of them. He's wearing an apron, shirt sleeves pushed up his tan forearms, the sight of which has Taeyong swallowing with difficulty. He loves his daddy so much. In Taeyong's eyes, no one in the world is cooler or more handsome than him. 

"Just in time, dinner's ready. Take out three placemats to the living room for me, Taeyong-ah?"

It's always Taeyong who gets asked to fulfill small household chores like these, because Mark is the baby, and can't be trusted not to drop things, or accidentally hurt himself. Taeyong loves this dynamic, loves getting to feel like the responsible older brother who helps protect Mark.

"Mark drew Iron Man!" he announces, holding up Mark's wrist so Johnny can see his hand, which is clutching the drawing tight enough to wrinkle the paper.

"Oh?" Johnny says eagerly, walking over to take the drawing from Mark's hold. He smoothes it out on their kitchen table, humming in approval. "It's awesome," he says warmly, and Mark is smiling so hard in response the pacifier nearly drops out of his mouth. He wraps his arms around Johnny's waist, squeezing him as tight as he can, and Johnny laughs. 

"Baby, let go, I have to stir the rice."

"Hmnh!" Mark mutters in protest, continuing to cling to Johnny. He starts dragging Johnny towards the fridge, and Johnny goes willingly, still laughing.

"What, you want to put this on the fridge? But it's already so full, we'll have to take down another drawing–"

Taeyong brings out the placemats to the floor table in their living room meanwhile, and also three pairs of chopsticks and three spoons, proud that he remembered to do all that by himself. He finishes by dragging three floor pillows to the table, and kneels on one of them, his butt too sore to sit on it. 

Mark and Johnny appear minutes later, Johnny carrying three bowls with ease, and Mark still hanging off of him, his eyes bright and happy.

"Minhyungie!" Taeyong exclaims at the sight of him, eagerly patting the pillow next to him, "sit here, sit next to me." He has two pillows on one side for them, in between the couch and the table, and one on the other side for Johnny.

Mark shakes his head, hiding his face against Johnny's side. Johnny bends awkwardly to place their bowls down, focused on not dropping their dinner rather than the bickering between his littles. The food smells delicious, three steaming bowls of jjajangbap, but Taeyong can't focus on that right now.

"Sit with me!" Taeyong repeats, getting a little upset now. Mark _always_ sits with him.

Mark shakes his head again, murmuring _don't wanna_ and Taeyong huffs. "Daddy, Mark's being mean to me."

"Hm, is he? Mark, baby, go sit with your brother. Be nice," Johnny says distractedly, extracting himself from Mark's grip and taking a seat across from Taeyong.

Mark whines loudly, and squeezes himself into Johnny's lap instead, again hiding against his chest. Johnny's arm comes up around him in an automatic, protective gesture, his broad hand threading through the hair at the back of Mark's head. But they were big boys now, and big boys ate by themselves! Taeyong gives Johnny an offended look.

"I think your brother needs daddy right now," Johnny says by way of explanation, already won over by Mark's cuteness, picking up his spoon and beginning to mix up the rice and sauce in his bowl while Mark continues hiding against his chest.

Taeyong pouts and looks down into his bowl. "But– 's not fair," he mutters, feeling a bit defeated. If he had to eat by himself, with no hugs, why didn't Mark have to do the same?

"Hush," Johnny says, a little more stern now, "you've had daddy all to yourself all day today, your brother deserves some attention too. Now eat your dinner."

Taeyong does as he's told, because he's a good boy, but he feels vague sadness in the centre of his chest. He watches as Mark gets fed with Johnny's spoon, his pacifier tucked over one of Johnny's fingers like a ring, while he has to do it all by himself. 

And although his dinner is super delicious — subtly sweet and hearty — and although he licks the spoon clean and feels tingles of satisfaction everywhere because it's warm and nice inside his belly, it can't soothe him all the way. He wants a hug. And he's still naked from when Johnny was punishing him earlier and it's starting to feel cold. It was fine when he was laying splayed out on the floor, but now he's cooling down rapidly, as his body redirects more blood to his stomach to help with digestion.

"I'm cold," he says petulantly. "My hands and feet are cold."

"Aw, sweetheart," Johnny says, looking at him with realisation and sympathy, "did I forget to dress you after we were done playing?"

"Yes, you forgot!" Taeyong says accusingly, pleased that he now has something to hold against Johnny.

Johnny puts his cutlery down and leans back a little, guiding Mark to sit forward for a moment. He unbuttons his shirt with practised movements and slips out of it, throwing it at Taeyong with a playful smile.

"Literally giving you the clothes off my back. You better be grateful, you little brat."

Taeyong just about chokes with happiness. He loves wearing Johnny's clothes, loves the feeling of how big and comforting they sit on his frame. And this shirt is still warm with Johnny's body heat, and smells like him to boot. What could be better?

He slips it on hastily, hugging himself and letting himself fall to the side with a happy noise. He hasn't emptied his bowl yet, but he's done eating for now.

Mark is equally happy, feeling even more comforted by Johnny's presence now that he can feel his bare chest. Johnny is so warm, so broad. Mark has had a hard day, getting blamed by his boss for a stock mix-up, even though Mark is sure he wasn't the one who placed the wrong order. And then the till came up short. But all those concerns seem smaller and smaller now — there's only Johnny, looking at him with immeasurable fondness, feeding him and himself spoonful after spoonful of savoury comfort food, until both their bowls are empty.

"Love you, baby boy," Johnny hums quietly, using his thumb to wipe away some of sauce that has collected in the corner of Mark's mouth. Mark takes hold of his hand with both of his, sucking Johnny's thumb into his mouth, eyes remaining big and innocent while Johnny's breath hitches. 

"Oh, look at you," Johnny intones, a little breathlessly, "you want to suck daddy's thumb, little thing?"

"I don't suck my thumb," Taeyong announces proudly, to no one in particular. He's still rolling around on the floor in Johnny's shirt, sniffing it intermittently, a little high off of how loved and powerful he feels in the garment. "And I never ever need a diaper anymore, and I can run really fast, and daddy loves me best."

Mark's expression crumples, because he does suck his thumb and sleeps with a diaper every night. He usually keeps it dry, but— did Johnny love him less when he made a mess? He lets go of Johnny's thumb, cheeks heating up with shame.

"Taeyong!" Johnny says sharply, and Taeyong stills, a bit of fear blossoming in his chest as his own words catch up with him. None of that had been very nice to say.

"I love you both the same and I won't tolerate you saying otherwise," Johnny says in a low voice, "clearly, today's punishment wasn't enough. Go stand in the corner."

Taeyong nearly starts crying at the humiliation of being rejected like this, of having to go through such a demeaning punishment, right in front of Mark. While Mark was _still_ being cuddled by Johnny.

"No!" he says petulantly, pouting. Standing in the corner is for babies, and he's not a baby.

"Now," Johnny instructs, his voice having taken on a low, dangerous tone. A tone that brooks no argument.

Taeyong does start crying then, two fat tears spilling from his eyes and streaking down his cheeks. "Don't wanna, don't wanna, not fair," he cries, but he still gets up and walks over to nearest corner, pressing his forehead against the wall. He hugs himself and continues crying in silence, his tear drops splattering across the front of Johnny's shirt. There's something satisfying about the sight — Johnny would see the evidence of just how much he upset Taeyong, and he'd feel bad and realise how horrible he'd been, and then Taeyong would get cuddles and kisses.

There's noises behind him, of the table being cleared and Mark's favourite show being put on — something called Voltron. Taeyong sniffs, feeling left out, even though he didn't like clearing the table or watching that particular show. But he still wants to be involved.

The show plays for a while with no interruptions, but then there's more noises, slick ones followed by small whimpers. Now Taeyong _really_ wants to be involved, because this is what it sounds like when Johnny gives them his special attention. But he doesn't move from his corner, instead listening intently, his tears all but forgotten.

There's some shuffling sounds, and then a muffled cry from Mark.

"That's it," Johnny says encouragingly, his voice soft and strained, "open up for daddy."

Taeyong can't take it anymore, surreptitiously looking over his shoulder. Mark is still in Johnny's lap, chest to chest, watching the episode over Johnny's shoulder. Johnny is facing Taeyong, but he has his eyes closed, and from where he's standing Taeyong has a perfect view of his fingers moving into Mark.

A little lurch of desperation claws its way up into Taeyong's chest, and fresh tears form in his eyes. Did both of them just forget about him entirely? How mean.

He sniffles, feeling small and neglected, and Johnny opens his eyes, gaze softening at the sight of Taeyong. He draws his fingers from Mark, which earns him a throat-y whimper.

"Baby, come here," he says invitingly, holding out his hands. Taeyong nearly trips over himself in his haste to obey, squishing Mark in between himself and Johnny when he shoves himself on Johnny's lap too, hugging both of them.

"Taeyong is sorry," he sniffles pitifully, "Taeyong is very sorry."

"Hyung," Mark utters in a small voice, addressing Taeyong, the first clear word he's said in an hour. He has also begun sniffing, most likely sympathy-crying because Taeyong is sad.

Johnny rubs a hand over the back of Taeyong's head, pressing a kiss to both their cheeks. "I know, baby... my sweet boys, so pretty, both of you. Shh, it's okay."

They all sit like that for a while, hugging one another, soaking up the comfort of being this close. Taeyong still has his arms wrapped around both, face pressed against the back of Mark's neck, breathing in his clean, boy-ish scent, letting his mind drift. He has his whole family in his arms, and he feels safe. 

Then the episode of Mark's show finishes, and he starts wriggling in between them, desiring freedom now that there's nothing to keep his attention occupied.

"Hmn," he mutters in protest when Taeyong is a little slow in scooting back and letting go of him. 

Johnny is watching them both with a fond expression, but his brow furrows when he sees Mark go for his phone, clearly planning to cast another episode to their TV.

"Honey, no," he says gently, prying his phone from Mark's hold. "It's getting late, it's time for bed."

Mark looks like he's about to pout to get his way, but then Taeyong is besides him, fingers threading through the back of his hair. Mark's expression goes fuzzy in response, and then he's yawning big all of a sudden, conditioned by his usual bedtime.

He's shuffled off to the bathroom by Taeyong, a toothbrush with a dollop of toothpaste already on it pressed into his hand. They brush their teeth together, making faces at each other in the mirror with foamy mouths, giggling conspirationally when the toothpaste drips down Mark's chin and makes a stain on his t-shirt. 

It reminds Taeyong of when they have bath time together, which usually starts with them giving each other foam beards and soapy mohawks, and ends with them covering the whole bathroom floor in bubbly water while trying to suppress their laughter. Johnny rarely scolds them for it, just hoses down the bathroom — and them while he's at it. Even when he's annoyed with their antics, his eyes stay soft. It makes Taeyong feel small but safely kept whenever he thinks about it.

He has Mark change into a fresh t-shirt — one just as big and bright as the last one — and helps him with putting on his diaper for the night, giving him a quick peck on the cheek because he's being so cooperative. Mark's true reward is his favourite pacifier, a powder blue one that he only gets to use after he's brushed his teeth. 

They hold hands as they go into their bedroom, cheering when they spot Johnny and the book with children's tales he's holding. He's up against the headboard of Mark's single, reading glasses perched on the tip of his nose, and he smiles at the sight of them.

"Will you read us a story?" Taeyong asks hopefully, crawling onto his own mattress. Taeyong's bed is right next to Mark's, pushed close so they're side by side. 

(That's not how Johnny had originally set up their room, but Mark liked to be able to hold someone's hand while he fell asleep, so that's how things had ended up. Their sheets always clashed, because Mark insisted on a superhero theme and Taeyong preferred princesses. But then, their whole bedroom clashed, their tastes completely different. But it was their little sanctuary, a special gift from Johnny, and so Taeyong wouldn't change a thing about it.)

Johnny hums. "Yeah. Just one story, though. Daddy has some more work to do after this."

"Will you read us the one about Haenim and Dalnim?" Taeyong suggests. It's not his favourite story, but it is Mark's. Johnny nods, the spine of the book easily falling open to its well-loved spot, and tilts his head back to invite them closer.

They tuck themselves against Johnny's sides, listening breathlessly as Johnny's measured cadences lead them through the tale. Taeyong knows it word for word by now, but it's thrilling nonetheless, hearing about the little sister and her older brother, and the way he protects her from being eaten by the tiger and being left alone in the dark.

Mark closes his eyes when the story comes to an end, murmuring words around his pacifier. He's praying. Taeyong guesses the children praying in the story inspired him.

He's the only religious one in their relationship, but Johnny and Taeyong close their eyes too, and listen to Mark's gratefulness and his request to keep their little family safe and healthy. His words are childish but painfully earnest, and Taeyong's heart clenches with a pang of love. He wordlessly vows to be the best older brother to Mark.

Johnny tucks in both of them when Mark has finished his prayers, ignoring Taeyong's pleas for one more story while handing Mark his favourite stuffie.

"No, baby," he mutters at Taeyong with a fond look in his eyes, and presses a kiss to his forehead, "you need your rest now, it's been a big day for you."

All Taeyong hears is yet another rejection, just like when he had to eat by himself and stand in the corner by himself, and his expression crumples. But he says nothing. He's a big boy, who is good when his daddy tells him to be good.

The overhead light gets flicked off and the bedroom door is closed, and within moments, a warm and dry hand finds his underneath the covers. The room isn't entirely dark, the little nightlight plugged into the wall casting everything in a faint yellow glow.

Taeyong smiles when he feels Mark's hand in his, and momentarily, all his little annoyances and jealousies are forgotten. He gives it a gentle squeeze, rubbing his thumb over Mark's fingers. They fall asleep like that.

\--

It can't be more than a couple of hours later when Taeyong wakes up again, because it's still dark outside their bedroom window. He lies motionless for a couple of moments, blinking up at the ceiling as he slowly comes back to himself.

What woke him up?

He feels for Mark's hand, but doesn't find it. When he flicks on the lamp on his nightstand (a glittery pastel thing featuring a Hello Kitty figurine dressed as a mermaid) and he's finished blinking the sleepiness from his eyes, he realizes Mark isn't in their bedroom at all anymore. His pacifier is still on his pillow though, which is odd. Usually, Mark and his pacifier were inseparable.

"Mark?" he calls out.

There's no response. He swings his legs over the edge of the bed, paddling out of the room with his hand tracing the wall and shelving to help keep his balance. His other hand slips up underneath the shirt he borrowed from Johnny earlier, gently scratching at his skin where the buttons have left shallow imprints. He's mid-yawn when he steps into their living room and freezes at the sight before him.

Johnny is sitting on their couch, cast in the blues and whites emanating from their television, still wearing his reading glasses. He has Mark in his lap, curled up underneath the blanket that had been on the floor earlier. Taeyong can't see Mark's face very well, partially hidden underneath his relaxed hand. He probably fell asleep sucking his thumb, the way he used to do before Johnny got him onto pacifiers.

"Daddy," Taeyong says in a small, hurt voice.

Johnny looks away from the screen, the smile lines at the corners of his eyes crinkling at the sight of Taeyong. "Hey, honey. What are you doing up?"

"Couldn't find Mark," Taeyong says accusingly, and then sniffles wetly. 

"He's right here," Johnny says reassuringly, and then gets up, Mark cradled in his arms like he weighs close to nothing. Mark makes a little sniffling noise but doesn't wake up. "Let's get both of you back to bed. It's late."

Taeyong shakes his head vehemently, and Johnny raises an eyebrow.

"Wanna sleep with daddy."

"Yongie, no," Johnny says reasonably, "daddy has to get up really early tomorrow morning, he'll bother both of you. Just go back to your own–"

"No!" Taeyong protests loudly, stamping his foot. Mark whines fitfully in Johnny's arms, turning his face further into Johnny's chest, and Johnny frowns.

"Honey, you've been upsetting your brother all evening. Are you doing it on purpose? He had a nightmare. He thought he wet himself, even though he didn't."

Taeyong can't express how unfair this little speech feels. It's not about Mark. He loves Mark with all his heart. It's about Johnny. He wants the same amount of attention Mark has been receiving — or more. He'll take either of those two options.

"Mark is just a baby, who can't keep dry and sucks his thumb! Why do you love him more!" he shouts.

"Taeyong!" Johnny hisses, trying and failing to keep quiet.

Taeyong starts to cry soundlessly, fat tears tracing down his cheeks. Johnny is mad at him, and loves Mark more than he loves him. Everything is awful.

Mark has woken up, turning his head to look at Taeyong. His eyes are round and dark over the curve of his fingers, cheeks hollowing out as he sucks his thumb. He wriggles in Johnny's grip until he's set down onto the floor, and toddles over to Taeyong, pulling him into a warm hug.

Taeyong sniffles and buries his face against Mark's shoulder, breathing in the sleep-tinted scent of Mark's body. If Johnny didn't love him, at least Mark still did. His cute and pretty little brother.

Johnny takes them both by the shoulder, guiding them towards their respective beds. Taeyong crawls in between his sheets and makes himself into a little burrito, just the top half of his face sticking out of it. Johnny tries to tuck in Mark, but fails, because Mark is grabbing at him and kicking the sheets away.

"Hmnf!" he huffs in protest, until finally Johnny grabs both his wrists and pins them above Mark's head.

"Enough," he says in a low tone, looking into Mark's eyes. His glasses are a little skewed, but he's not the slightest out of breath, and Taeyong can't help the little pang of admiration.

"Daddy," Mark whines, squirming to try and regain his freedom. But Johnny keeps him casually pinned, still looking into Mark's face.

"Are you two conspiring against me? I can't recall the last time you were both this difficult at the same time. Why are you being like this?"

"Want daddy," Taeyong responds immediately, tucking his sheets underneath his chin, even though he wasn't explicitly asked. He feels hope when Mark nods along eagerly, because it meant they outnumbered Johnny now.

It's silent for a few beats, long enough for Taeyong's hope to begin faltering, but then Johnny closes the distance between his and Mark's lips and gives him a soft kiss. Mark whimpers but doesn't return the kiss, lying perfectly still, only his stomach visibly rising and falling as his breathing picks up.

"Yeah?" Johnny asks against Mark's lips, and Mark nods again.

Johnny sits back on his haunches, observing Mark as he starts unbuttoning his slacks. He's still shirtless, and Taeyong watches the way Johnny's pecs tense and smoothe out as he works the buttons. There really wasn't anyone who could top Johnny's masculine beauty, in Taeyong's opinion.

Johnny reaches into his slacks, pulling his dick free through the slit of his boxer briefs, and starts stroking it. His eyes are still on Mark, and Mark is still motionless, but the bridge of his nose and his cheeks have become lightly flushed.

"Taeyong-ah... help me out, will you, honey? Help your brother."

Taeyong untangles himself from his sheets, and reaches for the sticky straps holding Mark's diaper closed. He pulls one side free, and then the other, pushing the squishy material out of the way and baring Mark to both of them. His cock lies soft against his leg, pristinely hairless — both of them saw a professional waxer once a month. 

Mark usually kept the hair underneath his pits though, solely because Taeyong really loves it. He lifts his arms above his head and Taeyong groans quietly at the sight of the dark hair growing there, a heavy current of longing going through him. 

Seeing it always throws him out of his headspace a little bit, but it's worth it in his opinion; loves this small aspect of Mark, loves how attractive he looks, laying back like that, so ready and open.

Mark makes a small choked noise when Johnny's hands close around his waist — big enough to nearly fully encircle him — and Johnny drags him closer, folding Mark's legs up to wrap around his waist.

"That's it, baby boy, that's it," Johnny murmurs gently, "so good, so pretty for daddy."

Taeyong is crawling closer, entranced, eager. He wants to be part of this, wants Johnny and Mark to give him attention too.

He settles by the headboard of Mark's bed, hissing when something hard digs into his knee. It's the powder blue pacifier. He slips in back in between Mark's lips, who rewards the gesture with a satisfied little grunt.

"Give daddy the lube, honey."

There's a big bottle in every night stand in their home, because Mark liked to be fucked wet, and often. Taeyong is about to go for the bottle when Mark shakes his head, making grabby hands for Johnny.

"No?" Johnny asks, sounding surprised. He leans over Mark, nuzzling at his jawline. This was not a regular request for the youngest; usually it was Taeyong who wanted it to hurt. "My baby wants to please daddy with just his body? No help?"

Mark wraps his wiry arms around Johnny's neck, trying to pull him in closer. Taeyong has balanced himself right above Mark's head, heels pressing into his ass cheeks, his knees digging into the mattress on each side of Mark's face. He touches both Johnny and Mark's shoulders, gently, lightly. Marks hands find his, and he holds on.

After some more whispered requests for assurance, Johnny hums in acquiescence and settles back on his haunches, his hand following the long length of his erection with slow, even strokes. He spits in his hand several times, pulling it from the back of his throat because that's the type of spit that's going to give the most slide, wetting his length with it. It sounds disgusting, and Taeyong is enthralled, his own erection filling in underneath the cover of Johnny's dress shirt. It's nothing short of a Pavlovian response, because these are usually the sounds Johnny makes before fucking him.

Mark is pretty when Johnny fingers him open, small cries spilling past the pacifier. He's even prettier when Johnny pushes in, his grip on Taeyong's hands becoming very firm. He lets out the sweetest little sighs every time Johnny pushes in, short shallow strokes, and Taeyong closes his eyes to enjoy the breathlessness of those noises fully.

"Ah... ah... _ah_ –"

Johnny is working between his legs with single-minded purpose, looking into Mark's face as he hurts him on each slide in. It doesn't take long for Mark to start crying, his little gasps becoming wetter, and turning into clipped sobs.

"Do you want to stop?" Johnny asks quietly, still keeping an even pace. There's a tremble to his voice, and when Taeyong opens his eyes he sees the sweat that's been collecting on Johnny's forehead, and he can imagine the level of control he must be exerting. Maybe it's hurting him too, Taeyong doesn't know. Mark is tighter than Taeyong is, not trained to take in objects the way Taeyong has been trained. And everything about Johnny is big.

"Baby, let me use some lube. That'll make this so much easier. Daddy's hurting you, he can tell."

Mark shakes his head, and takes one of Johnny's hands and places it right above his dick, which is still lying flaccid (Mark often experienced problems getting hard, a psychological issue, something neither of his boyfriends held against him — if they were being honest, Taeyong knew both he and Johnny found it kind of hot). Johnny's eyebrows shoot up in understanding, and he picks up the pace, hand pressing down into Mark's skin simultaneously.

Taeyong catches on a few beats later, recalling that he hadn't seen Mark use the bathroom since he got home, but had seen him gulp down a big glass of water right when he got home, and then another one right before bed. He'd been too preoccupied with his own thoughts and needs, hadn't paid that much attention to how upset Mark had seemed when he first walked through the door, how abruptly he'd gone non-verbal. But now he sees the series of events in a new light, and brushes Mark's fringe away from his forehead.

"Baby brother... Yongie loves you, loves you so much," he mutters at him, watching as Mark is rhythmically jostled by Johnny fucking into him. Mark squeezes his eyes shut, two tears slipping from the corners of his eyes and tracing down his temples. Taeyong catches the first one, and then the other one, sucking them off his fingers.

"You can let go, honey," Johnny is saying, hand massaging harshly into Mark's bladder, "let go for daddy. It's okay."

When Mark starts shuddering and pissing himself, it's a quiet affair. More tears slip from his eyes, and Taeyong pets them away.

"Good boy... oh, _good_ boy," Johnny is sighing out, the light stutter of his hips and voice going hoarser the only indications that he's affected. He's dragging his fingers through the stream of piss, through the little bit of it that has pooled in Mark's belly button. "You're making such a big mess."

Mark outright starts crying at that, covering his face with his hands. They allow him to cry, moving together to get him cleaned up. Johnny pulls out carefully, clicking his tongue when he sees a faint trace of blood on his dick. Mark had hemorrhoids that both of them were exceedingly careful with, the reason they usually lubed him up to no end. Johnny picks up Mark in his arms, who is still sobbing behind his hands, and carries him off to the bathroom. 

There's a light-duty protective covering underneath Mark's sheets (because the heavy-duty ones were too plastified, too noisy and unpleasant to sleep on) and Taeyong works methodically to get the soaked sheets off and into their hamper before they can drench the mattress, past the protection. He finds the discarded diaper too, which had been lost in the sheets at some point and is heavy with piss now, and bins it.

By the time he has put fresh sheets on Mark's bed and is loading the washer, Johnny is putting Mark to bed again. Taeyong pouts in sympathy at the sight of Mark, when he walks back into their bedroom. 

The youngest's black hair is wet, presumably from the shower, and his eyes are bloodshot and droopy. He looks beyond tired and small in his bed, and Johnny is frowning as he tucks him in. He doesn't forget the stuffie (because he never forgets it) and Mark grabs for it eagerly, rubbing it back and forth over his nose and cheek until his eyes slip shut. 

He's out within minutes, his face relaxing with sleep and the fingers clutching the stuffed animal ceasing their movement. "Love you, sweetheart," Johnny is muttering, fingers carding through Mark's wet hair. Just like that, Taeyong is back to craving the same treatment. He whines softly while tugging at Johnny's elbow.

But there's a cold set to Johnny's jaw when he turns to face Taeyong, and Taeyong knows he's fucked up. Where had he gone wrong? He can't recall in the moment, only feels an intense desire to make Johnny happy again.

"Honey, I told you, I told you he was having a hard time," Johnny says quietly, accusingly, his hand finding Taeyong's arm. He squeezes, _hard_ , and it's all Taeyong can do to bite back a yelp of pain. He doesn't fight it when he's dragged to Johnny's bedroom, biting down on his bottom lip.

Johnny's bedroom is his favourite room in the house, a limited but cosy space, nearly entirely taken up by a king size bed. It smells nice, of Johnny's cologne, and the lighting is indirect and muted. The decorations are sparse, tasteful, and there's dark blue sheets on the bed, high in quality. All of it stands in stark contrast with the bright and childish items in Mark and Taeyong's room, which had been an intentional choice on Johnny's part. Sometimes one of them would sleep in here with Johnny, when they needed the extra comfort, when they wanted to feel completely surrounded by their daddy's calming presence.

But Taeyong knows he's not been brought here to be comforted, not this time. And although his body instinctively relaxes in a room that is so quintessentially Johnny, a little pang of anxiety runs through him when Johnny closes the door behind them.

"On the bed, on your back," Johnny instructs, letting go of him. Taeyong rubs at the place where he's been squeezed, knowing it'll bloom into another bruise by morning. He bruises so easily, something both of them love and take eager advantage of. Johnny's undoing his slacks again, pulling his belt from its loops and undressing completely this time. He looks sculpted and golden in the soft lighting of the bedroom, and Taeyong feels himself slipping easily, giving himself over to the familiar sight of his dominant, the unspoken promise his disappointed expression holds.

"Yongie is sorry, daddy," he tries.

Johnny crawls onto the bed, his shoulders rolling in a cat-like manner, until he's holding himself up over Taeyong. He's broad and looming, and Taeyong gulps. He can't keep in the yelp of anticipation when he's dragged closer to Johnny's hips, clamping his legs around Johnny's waist in a mirror image of Mark, earlier.

"Are you really, sweetheart..?" he asks, pressing a kiss to one of the hickeys littering Taeyong's throat. He starts nibbling and then sucking, his lips working against his skin until Taeyong is writhing and whimpering. It hurts, his skin already so tender from earlier attentions. 

"Yes! Yes, I'm sorry!" he cries out, his hands balled into fists, pressed against his own chest. Johnny keeps going for a while longer, until Taeyong is certain no part of his neck has been left unmarked.

Johnny slides his shirt off his shoulders, throws it off to the side, and despite the pain being inflicted on him, it feels good when they're both completely naked like this. He's kissed briefly, and revels in all the skin to skin contact.

Then he's being folded in half, Johnny's warm palm tracing his small erection briefly before he leans back further, spitting a glob of spit onto Taeyong's hole. Taeyong bodily shudders and squeezes his eyes shut, already anticipating what will follow next.

"What do you want? Daddy, or something else." 'Something else' was the variety of things that Johnny would stuff Taeyong with — sometimes things meant to go up assholes, and sometimes household items that happened to catch his fancy that day.

"Daddy," Taeyong requests shyly. He craves the intimacy.

Johnny gives him what he wants, leaning over him and guiding his erection into him. It's only a little bit uncomfortable, his body accepting the intrusion easily, and he sighs happily once Johnny is fully seated.

"So sloppy," Johnny grunts appreciatively, as he sets a steady pace straight away, "your little hole always takes me in so eagerly."

" _Yes_ ," Taeyong whines, uselessly clenching and unclenching his fists.

"You feel so good, so warm... not tight at all, huh? You let daddy wreck your pretty body, just for his pleasure," Johnny says against his throat, mouthing and nipping at it, "fuck, you're loose."

Taeyong begins to feel humiliated, but he nods again. Because everything Johnny is saying is true.

"Hmm, daddy loves it. Daddy loves wrecking you, baby boy," Johnny tells him, his words punctuated by the slap of his hips.

"Yongie loves daddy," Taeyong whispers, and whines when it spurs Johnny on to start fucking him harder. It doesn't take him long to come, teeth finding Taeyong's shoulder and biting down hard enough to leave teeth marks. Taeyong whines loudly but keeps still, shivering through the onslaught of pain. It makes him feel tingly, a little dazed.

"Daddy loves Yongie best?" he murmurs, eyes unfocused. There's no response, but he doesn't need one. He's in Johnny's embrace, surrounded by him, filled up with him. It's evidence enough.

When Johnny has come down from his orgasm and his erection is beginning to go down, Taeyong is manhandled onto all fours and penetrated again. He makes a sound of surprise — Johnny was not the type to want to go again after orgasming. He can feel Johnny's still going softer, and blinks down at the pillow in front of him in confusion, trying to figure it out.

"Daddy's going to teach you a lesson," Johnny says simply, the only explanation he receives before the stream of urine starts up inside of him.

"Ah!" Taeyong cries out, shocked. He tries to squirm away and Johnny's fingers dig into his hips in response, keeping him in place.

It's not the first time they've ever done this, but it had been over a year since the last time, right around the time they'd started up object insertion and Johnny had lost interest in piss play, too preoccupied with training Taeyong to take on bigger and bigger things. It's definitely the first time it's being done to him by way of punishment. He goes bright red and hides his face in his hands, deeply embarrassed by just how much he finds he likes it.

"I don't love you more, Taeyong. I love both of you. Do you understand?"

Taeyong shakes his head, shivering as he feels the heat spreading inside of him. It's distressing, in the most delicious, humiliating way.

When Johnny has finished going to the bathroom, he pulls out. Taeyong feels a small trickle of urine race down the inside of his thigh.

"Hey, keep it in. Dirty little thing."

Taeyong does his best, but it's been a long time since he had a lot of clenching strength in his ass, having been opened up so expertly by Johnny. He hollows out his back more dramatically, hoping gravity will do most of the work for him.

He yelps when the first smack lands across his back, old injuries quietly crying out their protest. At first he's not sure what Johnny is using, until he hears the click of a belt buckle. He's being whipped with his daddy's belt. 

"Love you and your brother differently, but equally. Do you understand, honey?"

Taeyong takes in a deep breath, and then another — his thoughts feel like they're slowly turning into nothing but static. And then shakes his head again.

The next strike is the same strength, and in the same spot. It stings harder. And then there's another slap of leather across his back, and another, and another. Slowly, the last traces of rebellion in his heart seep out of him, absorbed by the pain, until he's pliant and docile and can't speak at all anymore. 

The hits stop coming, and Taeyong just stays still, back still arched, his limbs trembling. He doesn't know how long he's like that, doesn't fully know why he's here. He can feel the piss seeping out of him, a slight trickle. Then there's big hands against him, something being tied around his waist — a diaper. His humiliation is complete.

He starts crying, soft and aimless sobs. Johnny's next to him again, pulling him onto his chest, cradling him close.

"Will you keep dry for me through the night, baby?" Johnny asks gently, lips pressed against Taeyong's temple. Taeyong can only cry in response, because he already knows he's going to fail. His guts are rumbling, rejecting the liquid in them.

"Shh, shh," Johnny soothes him, rubbing his hand over Taeyong's stomach and dragging the covers up over them after grabbing the top edge with his toes. Taeyong settles quickly once he's fully tucked in, surrounded by Johnny's warmth and scent, the sheets cooling against his skin.

It's criminally early when he's woken up the next morning, by the overhead light being flicked on. Johnny is fresh out of the shower, although the alarm clock informs him it's 4AM.

"Whyyy," Taeyong whines loudly and pitifully, trying to curl away from Johnny's touch and keeps himself burrito'd in the sheets. Johnny is relentless though, stripping away the sheets and lifting up an edge of Taeyong's diaper.

"You didn't keep dry, baby boy. Let daddy change you."

Taeyong flushes red, freshly reminded of his predicament and subsequent failure. He becomes cooperative, allowing Johnny to drag him to the edge the bed, onto a towel he's laid out. He has wet wipes, a fresh diaper and talcum powder ready.

"Daddy loves you, even when you make a mess like this," Johnny is saying, while he's running the wet wipe in between Taeyong's legs, and under and over his penis. "Do you understand, baby?"

Taeyong is shivering in the cool morning air, and silent. Because no, he doesn't really understand.

Johnny catches his eye, lifting an eyebrow in question. Taeyong's bottom lip quivers.

"I'm sorry. I've been bad," he whispers.

"What did you do?" Johnny asks, prompting him. He's testing him, wants to know what Taeyong learned.

"I... I didn't keep dry."

"And...?"

Taeyong shakes his head helplessly. He's cold, and humiliated, and confused.

"Does my dumb little baby not even recall all his bad behaviour?" Johnny asks, his voice becoming sharper. "Is your little head really that empty? Can't hold more than one thought in it at a time?"

Taeyong bites his bottom lip, thinking frantically. But all he can think of is that Johnny is mad at him, and it's bad, and he wants to fix it but he's not sure how. "I'm really sorry," he tries.

Johnny is shaking his head at him, his eyes cool again. Taeyong curls in on himself at the sight. "I don't think you are. But I'll make you sorry, baby. Open your legs."

It speaks to the power of his training that he obeys at all, that he's so used to following every one of Johnny's commands by now, that it overrides his instinct to hide away. He lets his legs fall open and breathes in anticipation when Johnny drops the towel he had around his waist, because he's flaccid. He's not going to get fucked, which means...

"Daddy, no," he protests weakly, a groan of misery slipping past his lips when Johnny pushes his soft cock into him. The urine stream starts up moments later, and Taeyong pouts, hiding his face behind his hands. "Daddy, no. No, no."

Johnny isn't listening to his small protests — Taeyong has a safe word, and a gesture. Anything else goes ignored, because that's how they both like it to be.

When Johnny has finished — which takes a while because Johnny's morning leaks tend to be huge — he gets powdered and put into another one of Mark's diapers. He continues pouting throughout it. The diapers have a cute design, specially ordered off the internet, but they're not to Taeyong's taste. Too boyish.

"Daddy, can I have a prettier diaper...?" he asks hopefully.

Johnny takes one of his nipples between his fingertips and twists it. "Are you actively trying not to learn your lesson? Stop trying to be cute, and _listen_ to me for once."

"Daddy!" Taeyong gasps, covering his chest, protecting it from further pinches.

He gasps again when he's lifted off the bed and slung over Johnny's shoulder, a peal of surprised laughter escaping his lips. "No!" he shouts, because he can feel he's already wetting himself. He really has so little control over his own body, at this point.

"Incorrigible!" Johnny is saying, but there's deep laughter coming from his chest, "worst boy in the world!"

"No, I'm not inco.. not–!" Taeyong tries breathlessly, but he's already being thrown onto his own bed. There's a strong kiss being pressed to his lips, and he's grinning by the time Johnny pulls away from him. Johnny's eyes are endlessly fond as he looks down at Taeyong.

"Sleep some more. I'll be back around noon."

"Where are you going?" Mark asks muffedly. He's a lump under his blanket, nothing of him visible, except for a few tufts of his black hair on his pillow.

"Remember the new neighbors who moved into the building last month, Jin and Yoongi? They invited me to go fishing with them."

"Boring!" the lump complains, and Taeyong giggles. Mark was talking and playful again today, always a good sign.

"I think they might like us... might be like us," Johnny is saying. "I want to find out if we can all be friends."

"Really?" Taeyong asks, eyes wide. In their years together, Taeyong and Johnny had struggled to meet more people like them — Mark had been the first.

"Maybe," Johnny says with a smile, tucking Taeyong in. "I saw some things when I was helping them move in, but– you never know. Maybe it's not like that at all. So, daddy's gonna go do some reconnaissance."

"Good luck, daddy," the lump says, and Taeyong nods in fervent agreement.

After Johnny has left their apartment, it takes Mark approximately five minutes to sneak his hand out from underneath his covers, and find Taeyong's.

"Want a hug," he mutters.

It's stiflingly hot inside Mark's blanket, and smells like sweat and sleep. But Taeyong feels comfortable anyways, shoving himself against Mark's body until they're pressed together from chest to toes.

"Where did you go..? I was all alone," Mark is saying, his paci pulled from his mouth so he can talk more easily. He's only just visible in the relative darkness inside the blanket, looks grumpy and a little sleep-deprived, and Taeyong looks at his sweet face, his heart hammering in his chest.

"Um," Taeyong says, uncertain on how to explain the details of his punishment, instead pulling the covers down so they can both get some fresh air.

"Huh," Mark says softly when he notices what Taeyong is wearing, sleepy warm fingers tracing it. Taeyong flushes, and doesn't comment.

And then Mark's hand slips inside the diaper, and he flushes harder, all the way down his chest.

"Wet," Mark comments, and Taeyong whines in response. It feels like a judgement and an attempt at comfort all at once, when the powder blue pacifier is pushed into his mouth.

"Such a baby," Mark says fondly, and his eyes are gleaming in the muted light of their bedroom.

And, oh. Taeyong is so in love.

**Author's Note:**

> I was sent this prompt by my darling Naomi and just, went ham on it??? lol
> 
> _Can you write a fic with Taeyong babie and John 🥺 Taeyong just gets really childish and so Johnny treats him like it! And sexual stuff is encouraged._
> 
> I had a ridiculous amount of fun writing this, thank u so much for suggesting it 💚


End file.
